Rose and Pearl
by Don'tWishDon'tStart
Summary: "I wasn't born for the rose and pearl" What happened to Elphaba that the musical didn't show? Musicalverse- series of one-shots Warning: Depicts abuse. Disclaimer: I do not own Wicked.
1. Accident

**Hello! I couldn't help but upload another story as I've had this idea for a while. First of all, I'd like to say thank you for the helpful advice and encouragement on my first fanfiction!** **Secondly, just a warning that this one gets pretty intense. I hope to turn this into a series of one-shots if people like it so please review if you do :)**

 **I unfortunately do not own Wicked :(**

* * *

A twelve-year-old Elphaba made her way warily to the staircase. There was a ramp directly beside it, for Nessa, and both were decorated with horribly gaudy swirling designs, which had been slapped with a sickening off-gold paint.

Elphaba couldn't stand the sight of it; Oz, she hated this house! Each room seemed to be twice the size that it ought to be and there were ten times as many rooms as there ought to have been. The corridors seemed to possess their own individual stenches: the one nearest the dining hall smelled distinctly of burnt cabbage whereas the corridor leading to her Father's office had a curiously unfamiliar, murky scent that Elphaba could never seem to adjust to, and that she still couldn't seem to breath in after twelve years of it. And the main entrance hall, where she was standing now, smelt of something halfway between expensive wine and dying roses. Light floated into the room from all sides and up to ten feet above her head, yet the dark maroon walls and excessively large furniture made the room feel cramped.

She was almost at the stairs...almost, but it was too late. She could make out the sound of her Father's boots on the tiles and soon enough a door to her right creaked open. He would be furious.

"Where's your sister?" The man demanded

"Upstairs. In her bedroom"

But he didn't go upstairs. He continued glaring at his eldest daughter (something that Elphaba didn't notice for a few seconds as she had been admiring her feet).

"She's fine" Elphaba continued, although she knew that that wasn't what her Father had wanted her to say.

There was an unbearable silence. Elphaba usually liked silences, it gave her time to think. But not this one.

"Elphaba, what have you done?" Frex asked harshly, only it wasn't a question. It was a warning. So Elphaba didn't answer. She waited for her Father to speak again.

"Not only have you embarrassed your poor sister but you have disgraced our whole family."

His tone was soft and stern but not quite angry. It was unnerving. He would usually shout and she would mumble false 'sorry's between his outbursts. This routine was tedious, however there seemed to be a strange comfort in knowing exactly how her Father was feeling. But today it wasn't like that. She knew he was angry but with this new guise of calmness, she couldn't tell _how_ angry.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to..." The girl murmured before deciding to switch to her usual too-loud tone of voice "But you know I can't help-"

"Can't help but embarrass everyone around you?"

Elphaba opted not to respond. It was true. It was in her nature to embarrass her family. Not just with her grotesquely green skin but with everything she did. Not that she had any intention of stopping, in fact, she couldn't stop but it did hurt to know that Nessa had to suffer because of her. And today had been no exception. She hadn't managed to make it even halfway through the school day before snapping.

* * *

She had been reading under the large Quoxwood tree behind the school and intermittently taking small bites of her sandwich. She heard sniggers from behind her. It was no secret that they were directed at her but she barely noticed them at first because it was nothing out of the ordinary.

No, it was the tap on her shoulder that had stunned her. No one approached her. No one would willingly associate themselves with the green 'thing'. Elphaba had shot up to her feet in an instant and noticed that there was a boy at her bag. A boy whom she recognised faintly but could not recall the name of. She didn't have time to think of it. Dropping her book, she placed both of her hands on the tattered brown satchel. The stitching was loose and she was aware that if she pulled too hard, there was a good chance that it would split in two and spill the contents over the grass.

At that thought, her hands had fallen to her side and she watched the boy run away to his friends, the strap of her bag balanced precariously around his forefinger as if in an attempt to show off his mediocre strength. The laughs were growing louder. There were cries of disgust and mocking taunts from the now-larger crowd surrounding her bag. She was defeated...and then, in a unforeseen fit of rage, she felt it surge from her fingertips: the horrendible wave of anger that she could never succeed in suppressing. Laughter turned to screams, mocking glances turned to glares of horror and disbelief as the group clambered up from the ground, where they had suddenly all fallen to, and her bag was back at the base of the tree.

* * *

Elphaba returned her gaze to the floor. She couldn't look at her Father.

"Elphaba, look at me!" he instructed, this time in the normal roar that he knew would make his daughter comply.

"No, perhaps I can't help it." She responded to his earlier question.

This was a mistake. She could tell by the way the man's face contorted itself into a hard scowl. But this was about where it usually ended. All that was left was getting thrown a few more insults and a punishment or orders to stay in her room. Yet, it hadn't ended. He was still transfixed on her face. It wasn't exactly a scowl anymore, more of an empty stare. He was contemplating what he should do next, Elphaba figured.

She looked back down and saw him raising a hand. It wavered above his hip for a moment before continuing in its path. Her eyes followed it upwards but by the time she had registered what was about to happen, the hand was already whipping her emerald cheek.

He had slapped her.

Instinctively, she grabbed her cheek. It began to burn; the fire on her face grew hotter and hotter until it felt as if it were being pierced by thousands of burning needles.

There was a silence again- the bad kind of silence. Her Father wasn't looking at her any longer, he was looking down, just as she had been moments ago. He gave the floor a remorseful stare.

Elphaba could read him again. He didn't regret hurting her, he regretted doing it in a way that had tainted half of her face in an ugly purple. He regretted doing something that might harm his reputation. But Elphaba didn't think that he regretted harming his daughter...and maybe, Elphaba thought, she deserved it.

* * *

 **So...I hope that was somewhat entertaining and not too intense. I got kind of bored of it after a while so I really can't tell anymore.**

 **Again, please review if you liked it, or if you want to give me any advice :)**

 **Adios**


	2. Two-and-a-half

**Hello! I know I'm new so not many people read my stories, but sorry about the wait. School. Technology issues (everything broke)**

 **Anyway, I thought I'd post another chapter as I got an idea I thought might be good. Hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

The baby gazed up at her sister from her cot. They were only two-and-a-half years apart in age, but it would have been clear to any Ozian that their lives would be very different.

Nessarose Thropp was to become governor; she would live a life of luxury and affection...Elphaba Thropp would not.

But that was in the future, a future that the two sisters were not yet old enough to see. Instead, they eyed each other lovingly from between the dark quoxwood bars, Elphaba sat comfortably on the soft carpet of the nursery.

She stuck out her tongue, to which Nessa responded with a quizzical glance.

Elphaba giggled, observing her sister's tiny features. Her brow quickly furrowed when she got to her legs. Her sweet, tiny, tangled legs. They didn't look deformed, not blue and misshapen like they had done when Nessa was born, but they still seemed to entwine themselves around each other whenever she lay in her cot to sleep.

Father said it was her fault, Elphaba recalled. He'd said that if she had been born normal, Nessa would have been too.

The door to the nursery flew open, jerking the toddler out of her thoughts. It was their father.

"Papa!" Elphaba chirped. It was met with disgruntled glare from Frex. He made his way to the cot and lifted Nessa out carefully. She was his precious jewel, Elphaba remembered him saying, his angel.

"Elphaba" Frex began once Nessa was safely in his arms "I'm going downstairs to introduce Nessarose to the nanny. Wait"

She did as she was told. His voice frightened her too much not to. She wouldn't dare stray too far from her spot on the floor, so she entertained herself by fiddling with the fibres of the carpet. They were a soft blue colour, like the dress she was wearing, Elphaba noticed, but the thought didn't bring on a giggle like it normally would.

It was obvious that her father didn't liked her very much anymore, he hadn't since Nessa was born. She couldn't go to her mother. Her mother was gone now. She missed her mother.

A tear begin to creep from Elphaba's eye, which she immediately suppressed. Even at this age, it was clear to Elphaba that she was best to stifle her tears. Crying would make her father angry. He was always angry with her now.

It was a thought that made her feel sad. She didn't like how it made her feel, she decided. The toddler squeezed her eyes tightly closed, unable to hold back her tears any longer. She didn't like any of this! She wanted things to go back!

A light shiver formed in her chest, a shiver which had buried itself so deep within her that it was impossible to tell exactly where in her chest it was coming from, and which seemed to beat along with her heart.

Elphaba shrieked, which only increased its power. It became violent, tearing its way through her body in less than a second: her stomach, arms, legs, head, every corner of her until it had consumed her, swallowing her up like a monster from a storybook, all the while pulsating and shifting and changing and...

CRASH!

The shiver was gone.

Elphaba forced her eyes open.

The cot was laying sideways on the carpet.

* * *

 **I hope someone likes this x) I know both chapters have had Elphaba's powers but I PROMISE that not all of them will. I also wanted to say that I know Frex was horrified when Elphaba was** **born, but I've always imagined that he _tried_ to like her at first (if that makes sense).**

 **Please review as I love feedback! ;)**


	3. Parents

**Hola! Galinda's finally here! I guess you could interpret this as Gelphie but, as a hardcore Fiyeraba shipper, I've written it with Gelphie friendship in mind. Hope you enjoy! :)**

 **I don't own Wicked.**

* * *

Her knees were shaking under the table, bobbing up and down in anticipation. She was transfixed on the tablecloth.

Galinda frowned in concern.

"Elphie, you mustn't worry so much."

Elphaba didn't stir.

"...Fiyero will be here soon, you won't have to speak much."

She knew it didn't help; it wasn't the speaking that worried her.

"They're just my parents, Elphie."

"I know.." the green mumbled, her voice trailing off into a whisper.

"Shen Shen and Pfanee, they, um, met my papopsical last month."

Galinda thought back to when her father had visited, not long after she'd arrived at Shiz, before she and Fiyero had even met. Pfanee and Shen Shen hadn't been nervous - she hadn't even told them in advance. She supposed their meeting hadn't even really been planned, it wasn't a big deal.

But it was to Elphaba.

It seemed strange how quickly she could change: one second she'd be walking around Shiz, head in a book, throwing sarcastic quips at anyone who talked to her...and the next she'd be silent...and shy. Shy. That's definitely not a word she would have used to describe her when they first met.

"Fiyero said he'd be here at ten thirty. My parents will only be here at ten."

Elphaba glanced at the clock on the wall in front of them. 9:56 am. Just four minutes.

She noticed the blush grazing the blonde's cheeks. They really hadn't been friends for long. That veil of underlying awkwardness still hasn't completely dissolved...well, at least not for herself. She always seemed to understand people. It seemed almost like a personal failure that she'd misjudged someone so much. Oz! Never in a million years had she thought that the two of them could ever get along. Yet, here she was.

"They'll be struggling to find our table." Galinda realised "Ill go and look for them."

The squeak of her chair came as rather a shock to Elphaba, so much so that she was momentarily jolted from her trance. But then she was left alone, and left to stare at the tablecloth again.

When Galinda returned (barely a minutes after she'd left) she was followed by a couple whom Elphaba assumed must be her parents. She had to stifle a laugh; they certainly weren't what she had expected. It wasn't that they looked strange, but rather that they weren't like remotely like Galinda. The man (Galinda's father) was quite tall with a not-quite-shaven face and unhealthy looking tan. His clothes were nice, clearly he and his daughter shared a sense of fashion. Her mother was much shorter. Her dress was a immaculate (although certainly not something Galinda would wear) and her fair hair hung limply from her scalp. If it weren't for their similar make-up, she might have questioned if she and Galinda were family at all.

"Elphie, these are my parents." The blonde introduced "And Momsie, Papa, this is Elphie."

"Elphaba" she corrected quickly before returning to the tablecloth. She didn't want to see their faces. Unfortunately for her, their uneasiness was palpable. She wouldn't have minded if they were just about anyone else (she was used to the disdainful stares and oh-so-original mockeries) but these were her friend's parents; her only friend's parents. She recalled shielding herself with her desk at school, sinking as far down as she could get away with into her chair. It made no difference, but she somehow felt safer. She supposed this is what her looking down was doing now. It was pathetic, really.

"Nice to meet you!" Galinda's mother cheered, an obviously feigned smile plastered onto her face. "Call me Rina."

There was a painful pause in which no one seemed to want to speak. It must have been at least twenty seconds before Galinda tore through the silence.

"Let's sit, shall we?"

The three of them settled themselves into chairs, Galinda's parents making sure to separate themselves from Elphaba with the blonde sitting between them. Her father shuffled his chair gradually farther away, prompting a nudge and hushed "Daddy!" from Galinda.

Elphaba adjusted herself in her seat.

"Why don't we order?" Rina proposed.

"Yes, let's!" Her daughter agreed. "Ooh, Elphie, you must try their cupcakes, they're-"

"I have." Interrupted the green."Nessa and I came here when we first moved to Shiz."

"Nessa?" Galinda's father finally spoke. His voice was much softer than her own father's.

"Elphie's little sister." Galinda explained.

Rina seemed taken aback. "Oh! Wow! Is she um-"

"No." She was quick to defend her sister."No, she's normal."

There was another pause in conversation.

"Well, I think I'll have a cupcake then!" The as-of-yet-nameless father chimed.

Elphaba pushed her seat out before excusing herself and dashing to the bathroom. She heard Galinda mumble something or other about her being shy.

She wondered what she was aiming to do. She didn't know. Nevertheless, she continued her pursuit for the toilets. Once she reached the door, she pushed it open with alarming difficulty and rushed into the nearest cubicle. She wouldn't cry. She never cried. And, besides, she had nothing to cry about.

She really was ridiculous!


	4. Parents Part II

**This is part two to the 'Parents one-shot'. I'll likely write a third part at some point, but I don't think it will be the next chapter. Anyway, I hope you like it!**

 **One again, I don't own Wicked.**

* * *

Elphaba wasn't quite sure how long she'd been away from the table, but when she returned, everyone seemed to be eating. Rina and Galinda had scones, whilst Galinda's father was devouring a chocolate cupcake. She was surprised to see a cupcake in front of her seat. It was neatly frosted with pale orange buttercream.

"It's carrot." Galinda announced, interpreting her friend's look of inquiry as a skeptical glare.

Elphaba nodded and took her seat. She dug her fork into her cake and nibbled at the chunk that crumbled off, the sugary taste oddly bitter against her tongue. She couldn't hold much down, and spent her time cutting the same piece of cake into smaller and smaller pieces until she was satisfied she might be able to eat one.

No one spoke.

Rina and Galinda's plates were soon clear. Galinda's father was working on his last bite. Elphaba's cake lay almost intact; barely a crumb had fallen onto the delicate china of the plate. She admired its intricate floral pattern. Something about the way the scarlet flowers twirled round one another seemed familiar to her. It was almost comforting.

"Fiyero!" Came a sudden squeal from Galinda, forgetting even to introduce him to her parents.

Fiyero? Already? That couldn't be right. She looked up to the clock. 10:36. He was six minutes late (of course). She caught sight of him and Galinda hugging in the corner of her eye.

"Fiyero, I'm so glad you're here!"

It was true, but Galinda wasn't sure if she was just glad that someone might finally make conversation.

Elphaba instinctively got up and moved herself to the seat furthest from everyone else, leaving a gap next to Galinda for Fiyero. He nodded her a thanks and sat down, pouring himself a glass of water from the jug in the middle of the table.

"So, are we going to this game or what?" Fiyero asked after a moment of silence.

Elphaba's forehead creased in confusion. "Game?"

The blush from earlier had crept back to the blonde's cheeks. "Oh, Oz! Elphie, I forgot to tell you we were going to go to a game of ozball at-"

"It's fine." Elphaba assured her. She would take any chance she had to get back to her dorm. "I'll go back home. Nessa will probably want me to sit with her for lunch in a bit."

"We still have a while..."

"No, I'd better get to Nessa."

There was nothing anyone could say to change her mind. Galinda knew that. Once Elphaba had made a decision she would stick to it. So she let her leave, her cupcake abandoned on its plate.

"I know she's a little different-" Galinda began once she was sure the green was out of ear-shot "but she really is kind...and she was nervous about meeting you."

Fiyero couldn't help but laugh, but he played it off as a cough and took a first sip of his water. Nervous? He couldn't imagine her nervous.

"Sorry, sore throat." He lied.

He wondered if she might have said something rude, and that Galinda was trying I excuse her behaviour...

Although, she was human (at least, he was pretty sure she was). She must feel afraid , or alone, or upset sometimes. But nervous? Elphaba Thropp didn't get nervous.

* * *

The dorm seemed suddenly frightened now that she was alone. She'd been there alone before, of course. She had no reason to be frightened.

But she was.

She pulled out her draw and sifted through the contents until she'd retrieved what she had been searching for: a dull brown book with slightly scuffed edges. She spent a while eyeing the cover, as if unsure as to whether she should open it, but eventually she did. An eight-year old Nessarose beamed back at her. She remembered placing this photograph there. It was Nessa and her father outside their mansion. He had his hand placed on the edge of her wheelchair protectively.

She turned the page. It was the scrawled ramblings of her ten-year-old self. She didn't want to read it. The knot in her stomach tightened just at the thought.

There was a knock at the door which sent Elphaba into a panic. She threw her book into the draw and slammed it shut carelessly.

"Miss Thropp?". It was Madame Morrible.

"Miss Thropp," She continued once Elphaba opened the door. "Your father wishes me to inform you that he'll be visiting next week."

"Next week?" Elphaba questioned. He hadn't mentioned that in his letters- not the ones she'd read. But Nessa would sometimes forget to show them to her.

"Yes...Is there a problem?"

"Not at all. I'm just...a bit taken by surprise. Does Nessa know?"

"I believe so." The headmistress replied. "I would check with her, but I must be on my way now."

She thanked Madame Morrible as she left and listened intently as the click of her heels on the tiles faded into a light tapping.

Visiting next week.

She snorted. Galinda certainly wouldn't be meeting _her_ father.


	5. Teacher

**I'm sorry for the long break again, I should be able to post more in the summer.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoy this for now...still don't own Wicked.**

* * *

My hands were numb as I knocked on the wood. I kept my head down and held my hat and broom close to my body. No lights were on but I could never tell who might be wandering round the town in the night.

I tapped my finger impatiently against my leg to count the seconds.

Ten seconds: no answer.

Twenty: another knock.

Thirty: a voice.

"He- hello."

It was familiar and comforting. I smiled.

"Who is it?"

I hesitated, unsure of her response.

"Elphaba."

I heard a backwards footstep, my entire body tingling from the cold.

"Elphaba?"

The voice was fainter now.

"Yes."

There were a few uneasy steps forward before the lock finally gave a shaky click and the door was opened a crack to reveal the bewildered face of a middle aged woman.

I lifted my head for her to see. She didn't let me in; she stared at me blankly.

Her hair had completely greyed, and her curls stuck up in every direction. Her face seemed to have sunken in and shrivelled, but not so much that she was unrecognisable, even in the shadows of the unlit street.

I felt myself begin to tremble. Her trance suddenly broke and she creaked the door open only an inch more, gesturing me inside.

I crept in hurriedly and she shut the door promptly behind me. I was greeted with the musky scent of burnt ash. She'd obviously lit a fire that evening.

"Elphaba..." She repeated, this time with a kind of dreary tone that tightened the knot in my stomach a little more. I couldn't reply.

Her brow furrowed. "Come into the living room." I followed her through the narrow hallway into a surprisingly spacious room consisting of two sofas, an armchair, a coffee table, and a fireplace full of charred wood. It was lit by a single lamp in the corner, so the exact shade of the walls was indistinguishable and I couldn't tell if the floorboards were made of light or dark wood.

"Sit down." She instructed, gesturing to the purple cotton-covered sofa that she was beginning to settle on herself. I sat beside her, making sure to place myself as far to the opposite end as I could. It was obvious that she felt uneasy from the way that she kept looking me over with a hollow gaze.

We sat in silence for a few minutes as her stare began to soften into a sympathetic pseudo-smile.

"Oh Elphaba, I'm glad you managed to make it here after all they've been saying about you for these past few weeks. And I hate myself for for saying this but I did start to believe it."

The knot tightened again.

"Believe what? I know I'm wanted...but there's more, isn't there?"

Her eyes drifted onto the floor as she tried to pull together a response.

"Elphaba, maybe now isn't the time. I'll... get you some food and something for those bruises."

I glanced down at the dark splotches covering my hands. I was fairly certain from the pain that they carried on up my arms and chest.

I looked up again, her troubled expression bringing back bitter-sweet recollections of sitting in her classroom during lunches. I was always the only child inside with her.

"No, Ms Fastler, I'm fine. Really." I insisted "I just wanted to see you."

She wasn't convinced; neither was I.

"Look, I'll get some blankets to make up a bed for you and then we can move onto your injuries."

She left through a different door than we'd come through -one to the left of the sofa- and returned a couple of minutes later with a heap of blankets and pillows with an ice-pack balanced precariously on top. She released the bedding onto the other sofa and brought the ice-pack over to me.

"Here, I found this on my way. These look painful. How did you manage this?"

She seemed to forget for a second that I was a fugitive, talking to me in the same tone as she used to when I was an eight-year-old.

"They're fine."

She handed me the ice-pack and I pressed it down gently against my knuckles.

"No, they look sore. How did you get them?"

"I um- someone saw me earlier." I blurted. "But I'm fine now, It was this morning."

"Who?"

"I don't know. It was a man up in Nest Hardings."

The ice-pack began to sting my first hand so I moved onto the other.

"Elphaba, these bruises are bad, I'm surprised you made the journey...What did he do to you?"

"I don't remember, it was early."

"Have got any other cuts or bruises?"

"No, that's it" I lied.

"Alright then, I'll get you something to eat."

I would have argued, but I hadn't eaten a full meal since I'd left the Emerald City and my stomach was beginning to ache from lack of any proper nutrition. Having a plate of food that didn't consist at all of Gilkin berries or half-rotten apples was a huge relief. Each mouthful of porridge might as well have been a gourmet meal. Within five minutes I'd devoured a mixing bowl's worth of it, along with three full glasses of water.

"Want anything else?" Ms Fastler enquiried.

I shook my head (despite my stomach's protests). I needed rest.

"Alright, then."

She unfolded each blanket and arranged them on top of each other, before placing a pillow on one end so that it somewhat resembled a bed. I smiled weakly, my body already limp from exhaustion.

I fell asleep instantly.

* * *

Chains. Their metallic rattling pounded in my skull from the moment my eyes jerked opened.

Chains and torches. I couldn't remember any dreams, but the images were vivid and inescapable. Violently so.

I ate, washed and rested. Ms Fastler was as hospitable as a person could possibly be to The Wicked Witch of The West, a title that I only learnt of that day.

I shuddered at the sound of it, and a rifle fired in my head.

Chains, and torches, and guns that followed me back to Wynkie County that night...


	6. Parents Part III

**Well, only about a year late...sorry about that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and credit to Indy's Green Hat for inspiring this chapter.**

 **I do not own Wicked (Do I have to say that for every chapter? :/)**

* * *

"Elphaba?"

Ozdammit!

Fiyero! Of course he would appear right as I was helping Nessa into the carriage. Father had insisted that he rent out a cottage while he stayed for the week. I'd told Galinda that Nessa and I were visiting an old school friend of hers. A blatant lie, I know, but I didn't want her to meet my father. I wanted to get the week over and done with as quickly as possible and then return to normality. And I was so, _so_ painfully close before that ozdammed prince decided to show up.

Father paused on his way into the carriage to give me a suspicious glare.

"Prince Fiyero Tiggular." I answered, because I know that's what he wanted to ask. "He's my roommates boyfriend."

His eyebrows raised, giving him a look somewhere between astonishment and utter amusement.

"And he's speaking to _you_?" Father spat.

It wasn't a good idea to respond this time, so I opted to gaze at my tattered brown boots instead. I wanted to disappear in that moment. Anything to avoid that inevitable embarrassment that was about to ensue. It was so close that with each smack of Fiyero's polished shoes onto the paving stones, I could feel my face flush a little darker and my heart pound a little harder so that I thought it might just break free from my chest.

"Elphaba!" The prince repeated once he'd reached the carriage. He turned to face my father. "And the Governor of Munchkinland I assume?"

Father gave Fiyero a kind of self-important grin and a quick nod before he uttered the words that I had been dreading:

"Care to join us for dinner?" Even just the thought of it made me feel sick. "We can bring you back afterwards."

As if the situation wasn't bad enough as it was, of course Fiyero had to make it worse.

"Why not?" He shrugged.

* * *

"I've been meaning to make some trade arrangements with your family." Father beamed the moment we stepped into the cottage. "Perhaps you might be able to mention it to your parents?"

Fiyero let out a chuckle that he poorly disguised as a cough. Fortunately, my father isn't very observant.

"Yeah. Yeah I can mention it..."

I helped Nessa inside and dropped all of our bags into the hallway.

"Fabala, I could have gotten inside myself." Nessa grumbled in her quiet, polite way as I fiddled with the last suitcase. She wheeled herself away to the dining room. I could hear the muffled sounds of laughter from down the hallway- not genuine laughter, but that feigned business type that people do when they're trying to make a good impression. My father did that a lot.

I stumbled in the direction of the noise, but when I reached the archway leading to the dining room I felt the laughter die. Father's glare was palpable. Fiyero was watching me too, once he noticed that my father was; for a fleeting moment I swear I saw a look of pity flash onto his features. Nessa simply gazed anxiously up at Father, her pale cheeks tainted with a rose-coloured blush.

"For God's sake, Elphaba, get that look of off your face!" His booming voice tore the silence to shreads. It was both a relief and a nightmare, if that were possible. In front of Fiyero, I decided, it tipped towards nightmare.

"Yes, Father." I breathed, tugging my mouth into something that might be considered a smile.

* * *

Dinner was worse. Father insisted on 'getting to know' Fiyero, although most of his questions were either so vague or so generic that they never stood a chance of getting a personal answer out of the prince: "A big workload at university isn't there?", "How do you like the area?"

And then there was one question that stuck out like a sore thumb: "So, I hear you have a girlfriend. Elphaba's roommate, I believe?" He chuckled as he spoke, trying his best to sound casual and light-hearted.

"Uh, Galinda. Yes."

"And what's she like?"

Fiyero hesitated for a second. He was trying his best not make eye contact with me, just as much as I was him.

"Well, I, uh, I suppose you could ask Elphaba, if you wanted." The words fell clumsily out of his mouth, as though he had no control over them.

No one was sure what to say. We had just finished the main course so Fiyero saw this as an opportunity to escape, glancing at his watch and making up some vague excuse as to why he had to leave. I was glad. At least he wasn't going to see any more of this.

* * *

"Elphie!" Galinda shrieked as she burst into the dorm. I was sat on my bed in my nightgown, clutching my 'History of Sorcery' textbook with both hands. She'd told me she'd be at a party until late. I'd planned to be asleep when she came back.

"Oz I've missed you this week! My other friends can be exhaustifying sometimes."

She bounced onto my bed a wrapped her arms firmly around me before I had time to prepare myself. I couldn't help but wince as the pain shot up my spine like a bolt of lightening. Fast and sharp.

"Galinda!" I yelled involuntarily.

She pulled her arms away.

"Elphie." Her bottom lip was trembling along with her voice.

Pushing herself to her feet, her gaze was fixed on me.

"Show me." The words came out of nowhere, leaving me stunned.

"What?"

"Show me your back."

It was only now that I made the sickening realisation that some of the bruises were peering out of the top of the nightgown. She'd seen. How could I have been so unbelievably stupid?

"No, Galinda, I'm fine."

"It's purple."

"I'm green." I retorted. "It's worse than it looks."

"How did it happen?"

* * *

 **Kind of intense, I know. Please leave a review if you have anything to say :)**


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